


The End of the Beginning

by Emilia0001



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Angst, Blood, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, It was planned from the beginning, Language Barrier, M/M, Minor Injuries, My poor baby Natsume, Please take care of him Tanuma, Rated for swearing, Romance, Tags Are Fun, The relationship seems shoehorned in there, Well the others swear too, Yes Natsume loses his shit and actually swears, but it isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilia0001/pseuds/Emilia0001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not about youkai this time. It's not a family matter either, when Takashi wipes blood off his chin as it pours from his nose and mouth. It's just normal stuff he's grown unfamiliar with, lately.</p><p>In which Tanuma is the only one keeping his mouth shut to let Natsume do the talking - Not that they use words, most of the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of the Beginning

 

It's not about youkai this time. It's not a family matter either, when Takashi wipes blood off his chin as it pours from his nose and mouth. It's just normal stuff he's grown unfamiliar with, lately. All he wants to do right now is dig a hole in the ground and disappear for a few days, not that life works that way.  
He pushes himself off the ground, cringing at the way his left leg bends like a ragdoll's limb under his weight, aching.  
He forces himself to walk like always, but he knows it isn't enough when both Kitamoto and Nishimura fixes their eyes on him, running up to meet him halfway.

" Natsume? " Kitamoto follows the movement of Takashi's arm over his mouth. " That's . . . a lot of blood. "

" It's not as bad as it looks ", Natsume claims in a nasal voice, hiding the mess that used to be his mouth behind his sleeve. " It'll be fine if I put some ice on it. "

" You're limping ", Nishimura points out, as if proving a point. Takashi just shrugs his shoulders.

" What happened? "

" Nothing. It's fine. I'll put some ice on it when I get home ", he repeats, waving away the question woth his other hand.

Though it isn't about youkai, he hides it. He's not really looking forward to going back home. Touko - san would be asking, too. It's not like he can do much about it.

 

 

\---

 

 

" Takashi? What . . . happened? ", Touko pauses mid step, eyes locked on the drying blood on his collar, standing out dark against the white fabric.

" . . . Help? " He ignores her question by adding a new one, gives her a sheepish smile, as if he can smooth it all over into comedy. He slips out of his shoes and limps his way into the kitched, plopping down on a chair. The knee of his pant leg is ripped, but that isn't the issue. It's his ankle that hurts. He curses the ruined trousers anyway, because it isn't the first time this has happened.

" Lower your arm ", Touko nods in his direction, a small first aid kit in one hand. He does as told.

She touches his chin, and it stings.

" What happened this time? ", she asks again, voice almost monotone, as if it's something she's used to. It shouldn't be.

" ' This time? ' ", he echoes.

" You seem to never come home without at least a scratch or two ", she says, wierdly cold. Maybe he's just overthinking things.

Yeah, he usually to gets injured by youkai or his own bad luck. Lately, it's been different. Of course she'd be that ... unsuprised.

" Are you tired, Touko - san? ", he whispers. Maybe he's to them like he's been to everyone else. He may not be disposable to the., but he probably takes up enough space to be in the way. Yeah. Surely.

Her eyes widen in suprise ", Pardon? "

" You can just say if it's too much. I know it's -- I'm -- wierd, and it's okay to say so. Just tell me to shut up and let you two be for a while, I will, I promise. You will barely see I'm still here. "

Touko looks at him, confused, almost offended. " What kind of person do you think I am, Takashi? What kind of person do you take Shigure - san for? "

It's Takashi's turn to be suprised, " I didn't ... It's just, I thought that - "

" Answer me, Takashi. What kind of people do you think we are? Do you think we'd do something like shutting you out? "

Takashi looks at her for a long moment, and there's a sad little twitch at his mouth - half frown, half smile.

" Shigure - san is ... ", he decides to answer honesly, as if to give Touko something to chew on ", the reserved man that still tries to make me part of the conversation, the kind of man who never drinks more than _one beer_ at dinner. "

It clearly wasn't the answer she was expecting, and he can almost hear the gears in her head turning, translating the last part of the sentence.

" And you . . . hand me my winter clothes by the start of September ", he gives her a childish grin. "  You force me into a food coma every dinner and puts up with my weird . . . habits. " Takashi sighs ", I . . . "

She looks at him with a warm, pitifully awkward expression, and he's worried he said something wrong.

" That's so . . . very normal. It sounds so homey ", she sighs happily like she has a cup of her favourite coffee in her favourite mug, like she just tasted pure bliss and bittersweet hand ground beans . Her thoughts seem far away.

" 's cause it is ", he mumbles but dares to add, " Though, if it isn't, you can just say so. "

" I was just worried you . . . we want you here, Takashi. It's so much more homey. We have four chairs in the kitchen, Shigeru's old bedroom was collecting dust, I always made too much dinner. "

He knows what she means to say. He fits, in one extra chair, the one extra room, in this all too big house. He can have a second bowl of stew. He's not in the way.

" And invite your friends a little more often. Tanuma - san's son seems like a good kid ", she smiles.

_There are four chairs in the kitchen._

" Right ", he says in a thick voice, but he doesn't cry. He lets her tape his fingers together to stable the aching one, holds a bag of ice wrapped in a kitchen cloth against the ball of his ankle like he's ordered to. Apparently, both his lip and eyebrow are cut open and she fusses over it all before taping them with thin, white straps. He can feel the ache under his eye everytime he blinks but doesn't voice any complaints over it. He figures it'll be ugly in the morning but can't be bothered. He rinses the blood in his mouth over the sink with a cup and puts some ice on his jaw.

Somehow, he avoided the topic concerning what happened.

 

 

\---

 

 

He's determined to go to school the next day. He doesn't want to worry Touko, insists that everything is fine. ( ' My black eye doesn't even hurt! ' ) So, he does.

He probably looks like a limping, living punching bag, somebody who just got out of a car accident, someone who just picked a fight and lost, big time. He pretends not to care. He walks, confident, lazy steps, hiding the limp the best he can. If he treats it like a normal thing, everyone else will too.

After all, this was a normal thing for him. Walking around the hallways dressed like a half wrapped mummy in tarnished uniform.

Used to be.

" You look even worse than yesterday, " he hears from behind him

Takashi greets Nishimura with a wide smile, inwardly whining over the ache that trails up the back of his neck and head from the action. " Good morning to you, too. " Heavy sarcasm.

Nishimura gives him a half worried, half angry glare, " Why didn't you stay home today? "

" Touko - san was fussing over it. I'd . . . rather not ", he lets out a small, lighthearted chuckle.

" Well, enjoy all of us fussing over you in her stead. Tanuma's going to lose his shit if he sees your face. "

" Tanuma's the thypical bohemian character though. Of course he won't ", Takashi gives him an amused look, like he just said something really funny.

" He literally looks like he's walking on egshells everytime you're absent from school, dude. "

" Ah, right. That ", is all Takashi has for an answer. When he thinks about it, their relationship is very . . . weird. A constant worry over who was going to be the first to be eaten by some youkai.  _Wonderful._   _Ha ha._

" But seriously, though, what the heck happened to your face? "

Takashi shows his teeth in response. " Thank you very much, arse. "

Nishimura's eyebrow draws up in suprise over the name, but lets it slide.

" C'mon, you know what I mean! ", he gives him an irritated glare.

" Nothing. "

" You can kiss your unblemished face goodbye. "

" My whole face's a damn blemish ", he replies jokingly, feeling a certain urge to lend Nishimura another ugly name. He holds back.

" Oh fuck off, you pretensious bastard! You're the talk even among the upperclassmen, half the damn female student body at least, you lucky -"

" Were you dropped as a kid? You're spouting nonsense ", Takashi snaps back, feeling a little . . . less cheerful. Awfully bitter.

" Hell, Natsume, you look like you just got out of a gang fight! ", Nishimura goes on.

" Just drop it. You know I won't answer. "

" It's not even funny! ", he says, looking seriously angry.

" Too bad. Class is starting ", Takashi says, just as irritated, which is distasteful. Not like him at all, not towards his friend.

 

 

\---

 

 

Kitamoto and Tanuma come over to their classroom durning lunch.

" Let's go to the ro - ", Kitamoto stops mid sentence, eyes locked on Takashi.

" Hell, you look even worse than yesterday! "

" Nice to see you, too. Don't you have anything a little more oroginal? ", Natsume rolls his eyes But something original was no small feat - A group of girls had already been at his desk after the first class, flooding him with questions.

" The  - ? ", Tanuma blurts out, who just found Tasashi from where he's peeking over Kitamoto's shoulder.

" Hey ", He gives a small awkward wave, then shoehorns in, " Don't worry, it's not what you think. "

Somehow that manages to make Tanuma more worried. So, bright like Takashi is sometimes, he sends him an uncharacteristic look of ' One more word about this shit and I'm seriously going to lose it. '

Tanuma looks uncertain, like he's not completely sure the angry, lapped blue and yellow thing is really Natsume.

" Lets go to the roof ", Takashi finally says.

Kitamoto shouts from behind his back, " Natsume - "

" I'm seriously going to get mad. _Shut up._ " And Kitamoto believes him, if only for the fact that Natsume never acts demanding, agressive or angry, if not to help his friends.

The air is thick, and Natsume feels a little guilty.

" Okay, I give in, " he mumbles, leaning the back of his head against the railing.

" Gonna tell us what the fuck happened? "

" No, going home. This was stupid ", he sighs, balancing his hands on his knees when standing up ", my head fucking hurts. "

Tanuma stares at him, because Natsume is the most reserved and polite person he knows, and it's so weird, so out of place, so alien to hear him curse colourfully.

" Tell the teacher for me? ", he asks nicely, as if to make up for his weird behaviour. "See you tomorrow! "

He doesn't.

 

 

\---

 

 

Takashi stays home the next day and when he shows up in school there's a new bump in his head and there's a visable limp to the other leg, the one he'd escaped with unharmed last time.

Nishimura stares. " Okay ", he breaths, like Natsume was a kid who just threw all of Nishimura's money in a pond and he's trying to keep it together, shaking his head.

Takashi feels a little bad again.

" Your face must be cursing the rest of you, Natsume. "

" I didn't smash my own damn face in, Nishimura ", he sighs. Then he realises what he just said.

" Then who the heck did? "

" No one ", he replies curtly.

" This time, this time Tanuma will lose it! ", Nishimura holds his hand up like he's poking something invisible in front of him.

" Doubt it. "

" Let's make a bet "

" I'd rather not. "

Tanuma doesn't comment on the newly aquired black eye, the new bruises. Takashi is thankful.

 

 

\---

 

 

When he gets home, there's honest to god tears leaving stripes down his bloody face, stinging the skin he refuses to even touch.

Touko - san looks at him, standing in the doorframe to the kitchen. She lets out a heavy, sad sigh and sweeps over soundlessly to where he stands with head hanging, halfway inside as if he requires some sort of acceptance before doing so. She puts a hand behind his head, thumb in the hollow behind his ear and combs the hair in his neck with the remaining, four fingers. He leans his forehead on her offered shoulder.

This time, she doesn't ask what happens.

This time, she just leads him into the sitting room, places him on the sofa and grabs the first aid from the space underneath the coffee table.

" I don't wanna' go to school tomorrow ", he mumbles, sniffing descreetly. Then, because those words were enough to push him over the edge, he lets out an ashamed, held back sob.

She hums in response, cleaning the deep cut in his forehead, glaringly sharp against his pale skin.

And he keeps crying. It's so wonderful to be home, washed over in love like there's no limit on the amount and it's welcoming because the ugly bruise on his neck is treated with such care, the opposite of how it got there.

That kind of hurts. The contrast. Like he somehow ends up with the short straw in the end, selling the butter and losing the money but the Fujiwara's are there acting like some sort of charity case.

 

 

\---

 

 

He hears a small knock on the lath of the door just as he pulls the covers around him to sleep.

Nyanko - sensei is out drinking. Good timing, lazy.

" Hey ", Shigeru - san whispers, peeking in from a now ajar door. He waits for a nod, but Takashi just looks at his so he proceeds with taking a few uncertain steps into the room.

" You're home late ", Takash comments, sitting up.

" Work ", he says, plopping down on the floor next to him. " So ", Shigure starts ", how are you feeling? Headache? "

" Mm. "

" Touko said you refused to go to the clinic. "

Takashi drops his gaze to his hands, fiddling with his thin silk covers.

Shigeru draws a breath ", Did someone - who - did these? " He doesn't point to anything specific, but Takashi understands.

" No one. " He knows he's not fooling anyone.

" Classmates? "

_Pause_

" Some in my grade ", he admits.

" Do they have any names? "

" No. "

" I see. "

He doesn't push any further on that subject, it seems to be enough for now.

" Is there any other . . . thing bothering you? "

" Not really. " he claims.

" Really, now ", there's a pitiful little smile tugging at the corner of Shigure's mouth.

" 'S just preassuring me about it. Like I'm the one in the wrong. "

" The -? "

" Nishimura, Kitamoto. Tanuma just keeps quiet, but I can see he kind of . . . he's bothered. "

Shigeru keeps silent, as if expecting Takashi to continue. So, he does.

" It's like I'm some kind of . . . clown. It's like some competition of who can be the most obnoxious. "

" They're not trying to be obnoxious ", Shigeru puts a light hand on his shoulder.

" They are. They totally are, but they aren't - they are for a reason, I know, and that's somehow . . . worse. "

" It's the same way you've been tip toeing around us at home lately when we've been asking. "

It goes quiet. Takashi spends time poking at a sore spot on his upper arm, twisting the skin of his arm to get a better look at the black bruise.

" Takashi, this is what I'm going to do - I'm going to call your homeroom teach - "

" It's fine, don't. "

" - and ask if they've noticed anything, to keep an eye on you because your mouth is basically glued shut ", he continues, ignoring Takashi. His voice is painted a business tone, factual, and there's no room for discussion.

Takashi just nods.

 

 

\---

 

 

In the morning, he takes a look in the mirror. They're back at another Monday, a new week. Even though the last injury was three days ago, he doesn't look much better. His eye isn't swollen up anymore, and you can actually see the green irises in both, but his left one is an angry violet colour. He tries, but his thin, muted bleak hair can't cover the ugly jack in his forehead and line in his pale eyebrow. His lip isn't swollen anymore but is forever to be asymmetrical, lip with an ugly, red cut from the corner of his nose down vertically over the top lip, anddissapearing into the mouth. The mark pulls the right side of the lip awkwardly upward - thinner than the other side.  
The left side of his neck and jaw, where he's been grabbed, is still discoloured and scraped.

_This is only above the collar_.

He frowns at his own reflection before brushing his teeth, combing a little more hair over the scarring and exiting. Putting on his shoes, he feels a very strong urge to walk back up into his room and go to sleep.

He doesn't, and is instead left standing in the middle of the gravel road fifty meters from his house for five minutes, turning around when there's a voice.

" Natsume! " It's Tanuma, waving. Takashi smiles back, locked on the same spot even as Tanuma walks past him. Tabuma looks back, confused.

" Are you okay? ", he asks, tilting his head to the side like a dog. He's trying to be casual about it, Takashi notices.

" I . . . ", he glances over Tanuma's shoulder, then to from where he left, seriously contemplating going back.

" Go ahead. I'll follow you later ", Takashi says, with no other plan than to keep standing there.

" Is there . . . a youkai nearby? ", Tanuma asks, following Takashi's darting eyes with his own.

" N - no ", Takashi shakes his head. He knows he's acting wierd. " I don't - ", he starts, but doesn't end.

" Yeah? ", Tanuma nudges him with his voice.

" Don't wanna' go ", he mumbles, glancing back longingly at his own house still in view. When he looks back he can see Tanuma eyeing him thoughtfully, before taking a few steps so that they're standing at a more respectable talking distance from each other.

" To school? " His voice is low, knowing, eyes sympathetic and he bows a little to see Takashi better.

" Hm ", Takashi hums quietly, feeling pathetic. He's just standing there in a mixture of self loathing and in self pity because he can't fight to save his life and lets others peg him down. He feels so - ashamed. Tanuma sees him hunched over because of something as stupid as school and it's embarrasing. He's not a kid, it's not the worst he's ever had. Still, it feels like a whiplash, like he got really drunk and is experiencing the day after. Not that he'd know.

" It looks like it's healing ", Tanuma mumbles thoughtfully.

" Hm. "

" Someone did these, did they not? That cut - it wasn't there last time I saw you. " Tanuma's voice is laced woth concern and it's like he already knows. It's not hard to figure out, Takashi figures. It would feel a little better if he didn't have to explain it, so he doesn't really mind.

" Right ", Takashi mumbles.

" Are you okay? ", Tanuma asks again. He knows it must be a stupid question, surely.

" Yeah. "

" Yeah? "

" Yeah. "

" Good, then c'mon, let's go."

" No. "

Tanuma stares at him. First, looking perplexed, over into irritation and then ... sadness? Concern?

" Then don't say you're okay. "

" But I am. "

" Then get going. "

Takashi sends him a frustrated glare, but its so halfhearted it's laughable. He can feel the desperation in his own façade and can only imagine how it looks, matched with a scarred face and everything.

" You're not okay at all. "

" I'll catch up. Get going ", Takashi takes a shaky step backwards, feeling much like a cat with the fur poking outwards with curved back, ears layed flat. Like he's trying to hold up the last bit of his pride against a pack of dogs.

Not that Tanuma means ill.

" It's okay not to not always be okay, you know ", Tanuma hushes, holding his hands hovering in front of him like he's prepared Takashi'll run and is prepared to catch him.

" I can't fight back worth shit ", Takashi blurts in the confusion, feeling a need to explain himself " I hate it. "

Tanuma gives him a soft look like so many lately. A silent ' I understand', ' I'm sorry ' and ' thank you '.

" My leg still aches ", he then complains.

Tanuma nods.

" I fucking hate this. "

Tanuma agrees.

" I thought they would kick me so hard I'd die. "

Tanuma's eyes grow wide, but he nods in understanding.

" And I don't want to go back. "

Tanuma hums.

It's awkward. They've always been awkward. Always too reserved - much more like life long friends raised in each others silence than lonely souls friends for a couple of months. Tanuma's the only one not bothered by his silence, Takashi not bothered by his because they both know. It's almost too personal, too natural to be normal.

They're people who can talk without words - obsevant and patient. They know things about one another that are just between them and though Nishimura and Kitamoto are good friends, fools oblivious to the bubble outside of high school, Tanuma is always the one Takashi ends up going to when there's something wrong. _Don't take it personal, Nishimura, but it's personal._

So, it isn't any more awkward than usual when Takashi sinks down to the ground, arms on his knees and Tanuma goes down after him, laying both his arms around Takashi's shoulders. It's alien and unknown, Takashi isn't used to such physical gestures, but it's okay anyway.

His head sinks into the hollow of Tanuma's collarbone, which is a spot offered just to him. The weight of Tanuma's arms replaces some of the heavy, invisible stuff.

" I hate this ", he sighs again, feeling it burn behind his eyes as he speaks.

" I know. "

" I hate them. "

He can feel Tanuma shift. " Natsume doesn't hate anyone. "

Takashi blurts out a little laugh but it gets showered with the tears that well over. Tanuma gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

" You're not going to go whatever I say, right? "

" No. "

" I'm not going to leave ", Tanuma states. Takashi just burrows his forehead closer to Tanuma in shame.

" It's fine. Let's do this - ", he start, petting Takashi's back calmly. "  -- We go back home and we'll call the Fujiwara's and make sure we get called in ill. "

By ' back home ', he meant his own home. His dad was probably away again. The reason? He would probably use it to get the chance to talk to him. To give Takashi some space.

" I'm sorry. "

" Don't worry 'bout it. Let's go? " Tanuma stands up, holding out a hand. Takashi takes it and gets pulled off the ground, drying his tears with his sleeve like a kid.

Tanuma gives him a last strong, reassuring pat on his back to get him moving.

 

 

\--

 

 

It's silent, empty, cramped with ill - matched furniture, a sun bleached, big carpet and dusty picture frames on every surface in the sitting room. The kitchen sink overflowing with odd plates and a mix between expensive and rusting silverware, mugs with and without ears in different shapes an colours, antique, cream coloured cups with golden rims and hand painted roses. An array of mismatched and melted - together candles, big and small, on the kitchen table are cramped together on a darkening silver surface. Tanuma's room is tidy compared to the rest of the house. There's an undone bed stand in the far corner, white sheets over a thick matress in a white painted wooden skeleton. The top of his cupboard is littered with belongings, a few old books and pictutes.

It's all awfully homey, the whole place screaming _untidiness,_ and confidence that it can be done later. He loves the Fujiwara's, but they all go around cleaning, helping around the house like it's some competition, including Takashi. ( ' I'll wash the dishes, don't worry! Sit down! ' ) Takashi's own room is so bland and uncharacteristic it's not even funny. He sleeps on a futon, to boot - he's never slept in a real bed besides the hospital ones or when he's borrowed Tanuma's for a nap.

Tanuma brings some tea and Takashi takes his own cup gratefully.

" Imma' call your house real quick, sit ", Tanuma says.

" I - "

" I'll do it. Don't worry. "

It takes barely five minutes. All Takashi can hear are mumbles from the other door, most words goes over his head. When Tanuma comes back, he gives him a smile and plops down lazily. He looks - at peace?

" Was she angry? ", Takashi can't really persuade himself to trust Tanuma's expression.

" You kidding me? She talked to me like I was an angel as soon as I mentioned your name. "

Takashi gives him a confused glance. " How come? "

" I quote; ' Thank you soooo much for taking care of him! He probably feels a lot more at ease with you . . . ' " Tanuma's voice isn't mocking, but there's an amused sort of tone to it.

Takashi sighs overdramatically into his hands, but can't bring himself to say ' Embarrasing ' out loud. He had it coming.

" So, what did you tell her? "

Tanuma sneaks in one of his own embarrased glances. " Something like ' Natsume looked really off today. I'll talk to him - it he wants to, we'll go to school later, if not, I'll keep him company today and in school tomorrow. Was that okay? "

Takashi feels it warming him inside out. He's grateful. " Thanks ", he mumbles, spinning the now lukewarm liquid in his cup with small knacks of his wrist.

" Sure. "

" Tanuma. "

" Yes? "

" Sorry ", he mumbles again.

" What are you talking about? ", Tanuma all but shouts, voice in an awkward pitch. ", What did you ever do? "

" You know, I - "

" No, I don't. Don't apologise because other people are dicks. " Tanuma puts one flat hand on the table with strength so that his own tea splashes around in the cup, just barely over to the table. Takashi can hear the dissapointent in his voice ", It's like you're defending the fuckers. 

Takashi can't help but laugh. Tanuma's expression -- !

" I'm serious! " Tanuma glares at him.

" I know, I know ", Takashi holds back another chuckle. " I don't think I've ever seen you this angry. "

" Hah? ", Tanuma frowns.

" Makes me happy ", Takashi explains, feeling more embarrasment flooding from the corner of his heart.

Tanuma's glare turns into a soft smile. It's a little bit girly, the kind of cheesy expression you'd see on the guy in a romance movie.

So that's exactly the scene Takashi plays out. He doesn't know exactly what he's thinking, maybe ge doesn't at all. He puts his forearm on the table in front of him and leans forward. It must be disgusting for Tanuma, to kiss a guy, paired with a jagged upper lip and everything.

His mind catches up with him when he's to late. He makes a suprised noise like he's the one being kissed and not the other way around, and snatches back into his own personal space.

Or, tries to.

Tanuma cups the back of his head as soon as he draws away.

" 'S fine ', Tanuma mumbles, and he can feel his breath on his own lips.

They're both guys, it shouldn't be this easy. Tanuma should be kicking him out his front door. He isn't.

Instead, he's kissing him. Fingers twisted in his pale hair, he forcefully holds him there like it's to be expected. Tanuma only draws back a centimeter to catch his breath.

" We're going to hell, Takashi ", he declares, without honorifics or barriers. Like he's just decided so himself. _' I'm saying so, so keep quiet or I'm going to shut you up myself ',_  - kind of thing. _Kaname_  just decided for them both, that _hell yeah_ , if this is going to hell then they should be looking very much forward to it.

Not that either of them are Christian. Even then, it wouldn't matter. Anything's fair in love and war.

They rest their foreheads against the others. Two of the fingers of the hand Takashi has let resting on the table are gripping lightly at Tanuma's shirt, as if to keep himself grounded. Tanuma's holding onto a few strands of his hair in the same way.

They're both skinny as hell, but besides that they look like polar opposites. Takashi's whole being is like a bleached set of sheets. A washed out spring green eye colour and silver hair, short and thin frame and white skin. Kaname, on the other hair, has black, disheveled hair a tad shorter and very dark brown eyes. His skin is darker, too, he's tall and has wider shoulders than Takashi.

Embarassingly enough, Takashi can't help but think it fits.

" Yeah ", Takashi agrees.

They'll figure it out. He'll drag Kaname around school every available minute tomorrow like a personal body guard and they can both embrace being the weirdos those guys think he is, even if they don't show this to others.

Even with the ugly jacks in his skin, Kaname doesn't seem to mind him. Takashi doesn't realise how much he's been starving for this, the physical contact, the bond, the closeness he's never had before. The acceptance that being different is okay, something he's only had a small taste of before, at best.

How ironic. He doesn't think anyone would condem them for this, because it feels so right. Crystal. He can imagine that if Kaname's dad walked in on them innocently kissing, he'd excuse himself, collect himself and then later smile. The Fujiwara's? Suprise. Nishimura and Kitamoto? Freaking out and then think it's the most amusing thing ever, like it was always clear - because they were always awkward. In a good way.

Awkwardly intimate. The type of people that can communicate without words. Quiet reserved people, who enjoys eachothers silence like an old, married couple. Since the beginning.

Takashi thinks that he doesn't mind going to school tomorrow, because right now he's as happy as can be and tomorrow, just like today, Kaname will be the counterweight to keep the scale balanced. It's a first, and he loves it.

" Thank you ", someone says. Which of them? Takashi has no idea. He just knows it's thrown out there and then there's a grip at his collar and he grips Kaname's arm

Maybe they both did.

It's just begun. This isn't the end, and he loves it. They love it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's confused:
> 
> 1\. This is more based of the manga, where Natsume's a little more sarcastic and his character design is different, but like you've noticed, there's no need to read the manga to understand this.
> 
> 2\. I'm bilingual. Well, kind of. I'm trying  
> . . . I'm so sorry. English is like my second or third language :/ I tagged is as such ... I think. Something like that.
> 
> 3\. I just put Takashi in my own boots, but someone actually came to his rescue. Yayyy.
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♡♡♡


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